Caelum's Compensation
by Fierce Queen
Summary: When a criminal with threatening connections demands the return of a painting allegedly stolen by Neal Caffrey, the White Collar unit must join forces with Team Bartowski to apprehend and eliminate the menace.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello everyone! So, this cross-over is the product of the my and WingedFlight's minds one night in early July last year, and we finally got it finished this past summer.**

**It's set in the second half of Chuck season 4, and the second half of White Collar season 2 (even though there are no mentions of the music box).**

**We hope you enjoy it. And now it starts!**

_**Disclaimer-WingedFlight and I do not own White Collar or Chuck...otherwise there would've been cross-over episodes :D**_

* * *

It had been a long day of mortgage fraud and extortion cases, and all Neal Caffrey wanted to do was sit down and relax. He had it all planned out in his mind: The evening would begin with a light supper, to be followed by a tall glass of champagne and a thick book out on the balcony. The former conman was caught up in his planning as he unlocked the door to his apartment but even so, he noticed the envelope on the table with his name on the front.

In fact, it was the first thing to catch his eye, conspicuous as it was against the dark wood of the table. He knew it hadn't been there when he'd left that morning, and it unnerved him as to how it got there in the first place. Mozzie - but no, Mozzie had taken June to an out of town book signing and neither of them would be back until evening.

It was no use theorizing. Deciding to get the suspense over and done with, Neal walked over to the table and opened the envelope. The letter said:

_Zemliia (Earth) _  
_Bohdan Pevny_  
_Return or suffer the consequences. _  
_-Caelum_

Even when his hand tensed, Neal didn't crumple the paper; he'd handled enough bond certificates and art forgeries to train himself to avoid such actions. _Zemliia_...Neal barely remembered the painting. That was the man in the field, wasn't it? No, woman. Ukrainian artist. Not worth enough for him to steal, but whomever had left the note clearly believed he had. Why would he have stolen it? Neal crossed to the balcony, racking his brain for long discarded memories.

-x-

"Anton Chekov is brilliant, Neal - you should have come! What a master of literature! What an amazing guy! I shook his hand, you know - June shook his hand, too. She said she wouldn't ever wash it again, but I think she was just being nice. She said that to me when we first met, didn't she? Or was that later? I can't remember. Neal? Neal, are you listening?"

Neal shook himself. "Yeah, Moz. And you know that Anton Chekov is dead, right?"

"A true man of literature never dies. And you know who said that?"

"Anton Chekov?"

"No. I did. As you'd know if you'd ever read Chekov."

"Yeah, right Moz. I have to go."

Neal often prided himself as an observant man, but he barely even noticed the indignant expression on Mozzie's face as he brushed past on the way to the door. "If that's how you're gonna act," Mozzie called after him, "I'm not giving you the copy of _The Cherry Orchard _I got signed for you."

Neal stopped in his tracks, sighed, and turned around. "I'm sorry, Moz, but something important came up and I need to talk to Peter about it."

Mozzie appeared in the doorway, his arms crossed and skepticism written clearly across his face. "Peter? You're going to tell Peter?"

Neal managed a grin, tipped his hat, and turned to run down the rest of the steps. The last thing he could hear was Mozzie's voice: "Of - of course you're telling Peter. Wait. What are you telling him?"

-x-

The bookstore was nearly silent, the hush of those browsing the store setting the space apart from the bustling streets without. Peter casually made his way towards the Art section of the store. And there he was, Neal Caffrey, wearing his fedora and looking completely at ease as he studied the book of Ukrainian Paintings in his hands.

"You better have a good reason for pulling me away from a romantic dinner with El, Caffrey," Peter said in an aggravated manner.

The conman didn't even look up from his book. "You'll appreciate it," he mumbled, and flipped a page before tilting the book towards Peter to reveal a picture of the _Zemliia_.

Peter frowned. "This is what you wanted to talk to me about?"

Neal inclined his head and shot Peter a look from the corner of his eye. He didn't say anything, just allowed the agent to examine the picture in the book.

Peter leaned over to read the short description beneath the image. The _Zemliia_ was completed in 1963, in New York City of all places, and was painted so people could remember the famine that Ukraine went through in 1933. The painting didn't appear to be worth much to Peter. _Though, _he thought, _I might think differently if I was Ukrainian._

"So what's the importance of the _Zemliia_?" Peter asked Neal.

"I could have allegedly stolen it from a dangerous person."

"Allegedly," Peter repeated. Neal merely raised an eyebrow.

-x-

"What types of books does Ellie like, Chuck?" Sarah asked as she perused the books around her. The CIA agents were enjoying a lay-over in New York City after wrapping up an overseas mission, anc Chuck decided he could make good use of the time by looking for a present for his sister's birthday.

The shelves were lined with romance novels, all of the type Chuck was fairly sure Ellie enjoyed. _Fairly_ was the key word in that sentence; despite the wondrous Intersect in his head, he still had trouble understanding the differences between romance sub-genres. "I know she likes romance," Chuck confessed doubtfully, "But _what _kind, I'm not sure."

His fiancé smiled at him sympathetically. "What else is Ellie interested in?"

"Well..." Chuck racked his brains as best he could. "There was that one with the, er, the man..."

Sarah had lifted a hand to cover her smile; Chuck glanced away in mock irritation. There was a gap in the bookshelves, allowing him to catch sight of two men bent over another book. At least they didn't seem to be having any troubles with finding something interesting.

And then the man holding the book tipped it upward and the picture caught Chuck's eye -

_Zemliia-a painted Ukrainian woman-oil on canvas-sharp blues and cream-never recovered-stolen-Nicolas Halden-assorted names-Volkoff-CAELUM_

The flash ended and Chuck blinked, shook his head, and blinked again. The men were still in the next aisle over, the book still in their hands, the picture still easily seen. And more importantly, Chuck could see the side of the one man's face; the black hair and startlingly blue eyes were an echo to an image in his flash.

Sarah looked at him with worry written over her face as she saw her fiancé pale and go motionless. She wasn't the only person to notice Chuck's staring; the two men examining the _Zemliia _painting had spotted him through the shelves. The look they exchanged made her uneasy.

"Come on, Chuck," Sarah said as she reached for his arm and began pulling, "Let's go check out another section."

"No! Sarah!" Chuck hissed through his teeth as he resisted Sarah's lead. "I flashed on the painting," he whispered. "The associated name was Caelum, and I remember that name from my dad's bunker."

The two other men had started around the shelves, blocking one end of the aisle. Chuck and Sarah caught their movement and tensed.

The first man reached into his coat and Chuck prepared to flash should the stranger pull out a gun. Instead, the man held up a badge. "Peter Burke, FBI."

Sarah in turn, reached for her own ID. "Sarah Walker, CIA." She tilted her head in her fiancé direction. "And this is my partner, Chuck Carmichael."

* * *

**There's the first chapter for y'all! What did you think? Please drop us a line or two.**

**Blessings,**

**~Fierce Queen and WingedFlight**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello dear readers! Here is the second installment of the story. Winged and I thank you for the reviews, alerts, and faves. Hope you enjoy this next bit!**

_**Disclaimer-We, unfortunately, don't own White Collar or Chuck. *sighs sadly***_

* * *

"FBI and CIA—this should be fun," the blue-eyed man muttered under his breath, just loud enough for the rest to hear.

Peter lowered his badge and gestured towards him. "This is my consultant, Neal Caffrey."

"Caffrey," Chuck repeated, "Not Halden?"

Neal shifted uneasily. "Never, uh, never heard of him. Just plain old Neal Caffrey, here." Politely, he held out a hand. "Very pleased to make your acquaintance."

"Quit it, Caffrey," Peter muttered, but the CIA agents were barely paying attention.

They had glanced at each other as though suddenly struck by the same thought, Chuck's mouth working although no sound came forth. Sarah cleared her throat. "You...you don't happen to have a twin brother, or a look-a-like cousin, do you?"

Neal narrowed his eyes, clearly confused and shook his head. "No, I don't. May I ask why?"

"It's nothing!" Chuck quickly interjected. "You just remind us of someone...from our past."

"I see," Neal said doubtfully.

Peter coughed. "I really don't see what this has to do with, uh - you _were _interested in the painting, right?"

"Yes, yes, we are interested in the _Zemliia_," Chuck answered. "I, uh..." he trailed off, unable to explain the Intersect to them.

"He dabbles," Sarah said shortly. "What about you? Why is the FBI so interested in this painting?"

Neal glanced over his shoulder and noticed that they weren't alone anymore - another couple had turned down the aisle. He looked back to the agents. "Maybe we should go somewhere more private," the ex-con suggested, gesturing with his head to the people behind them.

Chuck turned his head, silently conferring with his partner. When he looked back to the others, it was clear a decision had been made between the two of them. "Where do you suggest we go?"

-x-

The office was eerily dead when the four exited the elevator. Chuck and Sarah were silent, taking in their surroundings with an awareness that screamed of years of experience. Peter was quiet, too, frowning in that way he had whenever something was on his mind. Neal tapped his chin in thought, bounded ahead of the group, and opened the glass door with a half bow.

"How chivalrous," Sarah said with a half smirk. Chuck snorted and then tried to cover it up with a half-hearted cough. Peter rolled his eyes at his partner's antics.

"Would the two of you like some coffee?" Burke asked the CIA agents, motioning uneasily towards the break area.

Chuck picked up immediately on Peter's discomfort with the coffee maker. "I can make it. I'm pretty good with most technology."

The FBI agent nodded thankfully. "You may want to put on more than one pot. We'll talk in the conference room at the top of the stairs. I'll meet you there in a few minutes-I need to call my wife."

"Of course, Agent Burke," Sarah replied. She turned to Neal. "Would you like some?"

The con man smiled appreciatively. "A hot cup of caffeine to begin a full night of work. Why not?"

-x-

Neal was perched on the edge of the break-area table, watching Peter on the phone in his office, when Chuck stepped away from the machine with a cup of freshly brewed coffee.

He took his first sip and failed at hiding a grimace. "Is this really what you survive on?"

"Only when the coffee shop across the road is closed," Neal replied. Sarah had finished pouring the last cup and he accepted it with a smile before leaning in close. "So - you said before I reminded you of someone..."

The conman noticed Sarah visibly stiffen, and he saw a flash of memory cross her features, as if the man that he looked like had done something similar during her past. "It's nothing," she responded, and brushed past him.

Neal huffed at the unexpected response and watched as she made her way over to Chuck, placing a hand on his before the two of them started up the stairs. After a moment, he pushed away from the table and followed the CIA agents into the conference room with an additional mug of coffee for Peter. The others were just taking their seats at the large table, where a picture of the Caelum constellation and _The Zemliia _were displayedon the screen in front of them.

"So," Neal began after he sat comfortably in his chair. "Who goes first?"

Peter took the floor. "The FBI has virtually nothing on Caelum, unless we can uncover an alias or two."

Chuck and Sarah shared a look as they tried to decide how much and what information was best to tell. The former inclined his head a bit to his partner, and she nodded her consent.  
Chuck swiveled to face the conman and the FBI agent. "First, I'm sort of an... in-field analyst," Chuck said awkwardly, "with a... really, really good memory."

Peter nodded slowly, recognizing an agent's need for secrecy, and Neal raised an eyebrow. Chuck went on, "And the painting there, _The Zemliia, _is associated not only with the man code-named Caelum, but also with the weapons-dealer Volkoff. _And _a Nicolas Halden."

"Weapons dealer?" Neal repeated.

"Nick Halden?" Peter asked in a growl.

Neal coughed into the back of his hand. "It's a common enough name," he began, only to stop as Peter fixed him with a glare. "That is - well, one that I may have shared at some point."

Sarah raised an eyebrow. "And which point was this?"

"Before my consultant work at the FBI," Neal answered smoothly. "Moving on - who's this weapons dealer?"

Chuck and Sarah exchanged a glance. "That's classified, I'm afraid," the latter said.

Peter frowned. "If we're going to try and catch this guy together, we need to share all information pertinent to the case."

Sarah still hesitated, although Chuck nodded in comprehension. "The weapons dealer is Alexei Volkoff," the nerd provided.

"One of the most prominent in the world," Sarah continued. "He's currently in custody but his illegal empire still spans the globe. With Volkoff Industries involved, this could get very dangerous."

"More dangerous than Caelum?" Neal asked under his breath.

He hadn't really meant for the others to hear, but three sets of eyes swung on him. "And what exactly does your... alias... have to do with the painting?" Sarah asked at last.

The con looked up at each one of them before resting his gaze on the table in front of him. "I may have allegedly pulled a 'Dipsy-Doodle' on a one Andrew Coleman back in my early days."

Chuck quirked an eyebrow. "You named that after _Hogan's Heroes_' Klink dipsy-doodle?" he asked in fascination.

Neal looked up with new-found appreciation for the young man. "You watched the show?"

"Of course!"

Simultaneously, Sarah and Peter leveled glares at their partners to get them back on task.

Neal returned to explaining the con. "It's not too difficult. Moz acts as the distraction, I make off with the prize. Short, sweet, and very simple." He flashed a grin at his audience, who all appeared to be varying levels of unimpressed.

"So you stole the painting?" Peter asked.

"I stole a collection of paintings," Neal corrected, "And the _Zemliia _may have been one of them."

Chuck leaned forward. "But do you still have it?"

Neal rolled his eyes. "Unless it was taken from my secret storage location - yes."

"And where would that be?" Sarah asked in a steely tone that told Neal if he tried fooling around, he wouldn't like the results.

"Burbank, California," the con confessed.

Peter sighed in frustration while Sarah and Chuck held back snorts. "We don't have time to go out to California, and I doubt Hughes would approve of letting Caffrey go in the first place."

"Actually," the nerd started. "The other half of our team is at our base in Burbank. We could call them up and have them get the painting-"

"And then they could fly it out here," Sarah finished.

"So long as you've got the key," Neal threw in.

Sarah and Chuck exchanged a glance. "If you've got the key, we can send a scan," Chuck suggested. At the blank looks he received, he added, "I added a three dimensional scanning application to my phone!"

Neal leaned back in his chair and flipped his fedora up from the table to rest on his head. "Not that I don't enjoy this conversation," he said, "but the sooner we get that painting, the better. It shouldn't take me more than an hour to get the key."

Sarah nudged her partner. "I'll join you," Chuck said quickly. "Just in case."

"I'll call Casey and get him up to speed," Sarah added.

Peter let out a breath as he rose from his chair. "Then I guess I'll start running the name Neal gave us."

* * *

**And now they split up to cover more ground! Yes, we took some liberty in making up a cool gaget, and we went with a constellation name because we loved the idea of Orion having given a lot of bad guys names based on the constellations. Caelum means The Chisel or Engraving Tool (depends on the site you look up).**

**What did you think? Please tell us!**

**Blessings,**

**~Fierce Queen and WingedFlight**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey there readers! Wingedflight and I thank you very much for the faves, alerts, and reviews. We hope you enjoy this next chapter.**

_**Disclaimer-We don't own White Collar or Chuck.**_

* * *

Chuck hadn't said much on the walk to Neal's place. The conman often prided himself on his ability to read people, and Chuck Carmichael seemed to be the sort of man who quite enjoyed conversation. The fact that he was apparently deep in thought was intriguing as it meant that he had something to think about - and Neal guessed it was more than the Caelum matter.

Given Sarah's reaction in the office earlier, Neal knew he would have to be careful how he worded any questions. It would be best to approach the topic carefully, starting with a seemingly mundane inquiry and working up to the important queries—

Rough hands grabbed him from behind, throwing Neal into the alley. Before he could catch his balance, a masked man had pushed him up against the brick wall, one arm holding him there while another covered his mouth.

"Get me my painting," a cold voice whispered close to his ear. "And nothing will happen to you or your friends."

Neal nodded stiffly. "Good," the voice said. The con felt something slide into his coat pocket. "I'll call you."

The figure slipped away, leaving Neal dizzy as he sagged against the wall. He didn't move until he was sure the man was out of sight - didn't even move after that. A bitter taste was left in his mouth from the danger.

Chuck came dashing around the corner, sneakers skidding on the gravel. "What are you - are you - ?"

Neal lifted a hand weakly to draw the agent's attention over. "You missed the excitement."

Chuck looked from his face to the rumpled clothing before glancing down the alley. "How far is he?"

"You won't catch him now," Neal said, understanding the real question.

"I'm so sorry for zoning out - I should know better," Chuck apologized.

Neal could tell by the look on the other man's face that he was truly sorry. He smirked and buried the fear that had overcome him earlier. "How about we go get that key?" he asked in a light tone.

Chuck smiled tightly and nodded.

-x-

_"Only the nerd could drag us into a mission like this,"_the Colonel griped over the line.

Sarah rolled her eyes. "We have to work with the FBI on this one, Casey. Regardless of how you feel about them."

The Marine grunted. _"I'll be waiting for the scan. Damn Bartowski,"_he mumbled to himself.

Had the two of them been speaking in person, Sarah would have sent him a mock-glare. As it was, the best she could do was mildly mention, "I know how little you enjoy game night with Morgan."

_"Eugh," _Casey groaned, _"One more night of Monopoly: Star Wars edition, and I'm going to take it out on someone. Painfully." _

"I'm sure Beckman would be pleased to make use of that," Sarah said dryly. She checked her watch - Chuck and Neal had been gone for ten minutes, now - and added, "By the way, she might know something about this. Would you contact her for us?"

_"Ask for the moon while you're at it,"_Casey grumbled good-naturedly.

Sarah smiled. "Thanks, Casey."

She heard a grunt in reply before the line went silent. The CIA agent made her way to Peter's office through the connecting door to the conference room.

"Your associate doesn't care to highly for the FBI, I take it," the Special Agent commented.

Sarah didn't even act like she was surprised that the older man had heard her conversation because the door had been open. "Don't mind Casey," she said. "He just likes to complain when he doesn't get to use his guns."

Peter snorted in amusement and turned back to his computer. When Sarah didn't move from the doorway, he gestured for her to come around the desk. "I've started running names in the FBI's database," he explained, "But haven't come across anything noteworthy, yet."

She moved across the room at his invitation. The desk was very ordered, she noted, and assumed this was a reflection of the man sitting behind it. "Which names did you run?"

"Caelum," he answered, "Not that I was expecting much from that. What was that alias Neal had mentioned?"

"Nicholas Halden?"

He snorted again. "No, the one belonging to Caelum. Andrew -?"

"Coleman," she supplied, and he typed it into the search engine.

It took a moment for the database to process the name and bring up hits. But when the computer had finished its search, it had compiled quite the list.

Peter and Sarah stared at the information in front of them. "Real name: unknown, but other aliases include Levi Davin and Simeon Hunter," the CIA agent read out loud under her breath.

"And he's a suspect in dozens of art thefts, but the leads go cold," Peter continued.

Sarah gave a short, humorless laugh and moved towards the window behind them. "That's probably thanks to Volkoff," she commented. The CIA agent stared out the window to get a look at the city that never slept. She then turned back to Peter. "If you let me log onto one of your computers, I could look up whatever information the CIA and NSA have on this guy."

"Be my guest," Peter responded. He led her out of his office and to Neal's desk where, with a few quick keystrokes, he'd logged in. Sarah took a seat in the chair and opened up a window, bringing up the CIA database.

Her search initially brought up no new information, unless three other dead-end cases could count. Sarah frowned at the last one mentioned, before leaning back and telling Peter, "He was definitely in with Volkoff. The other suspects listed are all known associates of the arms-dealer."

"It's confirmed, then," Peter said.

The two of them sat in silence for another minute, reflecting on the little information they had gained in the search. Finally, Peter stirred, shaking his head a little as he glanced at his watch. "Neal and Chuck should be back soon with the key. Time to organize what we've found for an easy briefing when they return."

Sarah nodded and hit 'print'. "I'll go make copies."

-x-

Chuck and Neal were finally on their way back to the bureau after their scavenger hunt to find the key. This time around, however, Chuck decided to keep the conversation up so that if either of them were attacked again it would be noticed almost immediately.

"Do you always hide your things with such difficulty?" the nerd asked.

Neal half shrugged and shoved his hands in his pockets. "You have to in my...former line of work."

"And now that you work with the FBI?"

The con smirked. "Hard habit to break."

Chuck gave a short laugh. The moment of silence between the two gave Neal the perfect opportunity to ask the question he was going to ask the other man before he was ambushed.

"You said earlier I remind you of someone," Neal began, "It was someone close, am I right? You separated badly."

Chuck started and peered at Neal suspiciously. "Why would you think that?"

"I'd have expected you to be studying my face more, finding differences between myself and..."

"Bryce," Chuck supplied after a pause.

"But instead you avoid looking at me. Which means you don't want to think about how similar we are."

Chuck scuffed a shoe against the pavement to gather his thoughts. Finally, he said, "It didn't end badly. It just... ended. I was with him when he died."

Neal felt a pang of sorrow in his chest when he heard Chuck's words. He could imagine what that felt like, as he had witnessed Kate's terrible death. Though, from the sounds of it, the man before him was right next to his look-a-like when he died. "I'm sorry, Chuck."

The nerd smiled tightly, and they continued to walk down the street. Though the con knew that it was like picking at a sore wound, he was curious as to how Sarah knew this Bryce.

"Do you know how Sarah and Bryce met up?"

Chuck shook his head. "Not exactly. All I really know is that they went on missions together before...things got complicated."

That confused Neal a bit. "Bryce worked for the CIA?"

"Yeah," Chuck said softly. "He joined our junior year of college - though I didn't know it at the time."

"So you met at college," Neal guessed as they walked towards the entrance of the FBI building.

"Yeah. Back when things were a bit simpler."

The two fell quiet again, and this time Neal let Chuck alone until they got up to the twenty-first floor.

-x-

While she knew that Peter liked to keep his work and his home life separated, Elizabeth Burke wasn't one to just head home when a romantic dinner was cut short by one of his cases. She'd finished her meal, for a start, even though it wasn't anything the same with her husband gone. Then, she'd returned home and changed into something more comfortable. Peter had called just as she was curling up with Satchmo on the couch - while he couldn't say much about the case, she was able to gather that it involved Neal and a couple of other agents. He'd be staying late at the office, he said. Unspoken, but implied, was that he might not be home before morning.

It happened occasionally and El was used to it. Normally, she would put on a movie before heading to bed. Tonight, however, she felt too awake to sit still. She'd cleaned the kitchen, fed Satchmo, and looked through their collection of DVDs twice before deciding that what she really needed was some fresh air.

And so it was that she found herself heading into the FBI White Collar Division's offices at 11 that night, a thermos of hot coffee in one hand and a tin of baking in the other. Peter, she knew, hated the office's coffee. And besides - she'd admit it - she was worried about Neal, too.

-x-

Once Neal and Chuck returned to the 21st floor, the latter took a scan of the key to the Burbank storage unit and sent it to Casey. After the CIA agent was done with the key, Neal took it back to his desk so he could lock it away in a relatively safe place. As the conman closed the middle drawer to his desk, he noticed that Agent Walker hadn't yet logged out of the CIA database. A quick look up at the conference room let Neal know that Peter, Chuck, and Sarah were too involved with discussing the list of names that were uncovered to notice that he was taking a little too long to put the key away. So, being Neal, he took this opportunity to look up Bryce Larkin.

To Neal's chagrin, he was unable to identify any files relating to Bryce Larkin-at least none that were not mostly redacted. The conman sighed in frustration and glared at the screen. It was one of the rare times he wished he knew how to hack a computer. The ding of the elevator brought him out of his thoughts, and unease settled in as no one else was supposed to be at the offices tonight.

Everyone else was still in the conference room. Neal took one more look at the computer screen, his hand hovering over the mouse. He didn't want to close the files, but he didn't want anyone else to see that he was looking at them, either.

The elevator doors slid open and El walked out. Neal sagged, relieved that it wasn't another agent who might want to check what he had open on his computer. He minimized the window and stood up, greeting El while relieving her of the large tin she'd brought along.

"You're here awfully late, Elizabeth," Neal commented. "Though I'm sure we will all appreciate the refreshments-especially Peter."

Elizabeth grinned at him. "I couldn't sleep and needed something to do. Besides, I wanted to meet the people you and my husband are working with on this case."

Neal led her through the office and knocked once on the conference room door before stepping through. Peter was the first to look up, his face brightening as he saw who it was. "El!" he exclaimed and with a certain amount of pride in his voice, introduced her to the others as, "My lovely wife."

"I brought snacks," she said with a smile, and Neal set the tin down on the table.

The next few minutes were a welcome break from the case as the two CIA agents were introduced and the cookies were passed around. Chuck and Sarah exchanged a glance as they got to know Elizabeth a little better. She reminded the couple of a certain Ellie Woodcomb, of whom they were shopping for a birthday present before they were lassoed into this mission.

"I don't know how you do it, Neal," Chuck joked, "But it seems like everyone I've met tonight resembles someone from my own life."

"I'd almost suggest you're dreaming," Neal responded with a grin.

That was when Peter clapped his hands together. "All right, team," he said, "Time to get back to work. Where'd that list of possible aliases get to?"

Sarah passed his copy over the table and El took a look around. "I guess that's my cue to leave," she said. El swiftly walked over to her husband and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. "See you later, hon."

"I'll call you later," Peter replied.

Mrs. Burke turned back to Neal, Chuck, and Sarah and gave them a small wave. "Have fun catching the bad guy."

* * *

**What did you think? Please let us know!**

**Until next time!**

**Blessings,**

**~Fierce Queen and Wingedflight**


	4. Chapter 4

**Sorry for not posting this sooner, dear readers! I went home on break, and Saturday was busy. But here is chapter four, and I shall hopefully remember to post chapter five tomorrow.**

_**Disclaimer-Winged and I don't own Chuck or White Collar. A true shame ;)**_

* * *

It was nearing dawn when the team decided to stop looking at names.

"Maybe we should try a different tactic to trying to put a face to Caelum," Sarah suggested as she brushed her hand tiredly over her face.

Peter put his head in his hands, Neal used his left arm to support his heavy head, and Chuck stared down at the files they had on the table. "Face," Agent Bartowski said softly to himself. "Face," he said louder. "That's it!"

The other three looked at the nerd curiously. "What do you mean, Chuck?" the conman asked.

"If we could get a picture of Caelum on the day you pulled the 'dipsy-doodle', then we could run the pic through the agencies' facial recognition databases to find out his real name!" he answered.

"Only if the airport still has records from when you pulled the heist," Peter said, "How long ago was that, then?"

Neal frowned. "About a year before you caught up with me. It was sometime in the spring." He huffed in frustration. "Mozzie would know."

"Mozzie?" asked Sarah.

Neal had stepped out of the room to make the call. Peter explained to the others, "A friend of his. But we could see if Caelum's face was caught on surveillance tapes when he grabbed Neal earlier last night."

"Burke-what are you doing here so early?"

The unexpected and unknown voice came so suddenly from behind the CIA agents, that they rose and trained their guns - tranq gun for Chuck - on the unfamiliar person through pure instinct. Their actions caused the elderly man behind them to take a step back from the door.

Raising his hands cautiously, the older man with white hair and a hard expression on his face directed his inquiries to Peter again. "Burke, who are these people?"

Peter had been on his feet once Chuck and Sarah rushed to theirs. "Reese, these are agents Chuck Carmichael and Sarah Walker of the CIA," he informed his superior. Peter then directed his voice to the two agents still holding guns on his boss and friend. "Chuck and Sarah, this is Reese Hughes. He's the director of the White Collar Unit here."

The CIA agents lowered their guns just as Neal bounded back up the stairs. The conman stopped short and looked between Hughes, Chuck and Sarah, and Peter with a blank expression on his face.

Sarah was the first to recover. "We're, uh, glad to meet you," she said, "Chuck and I are assisting Agent Burke and Mister Caffrey on locating the man code-named Caelum."

Hughes nodded slowly. "All right, but I'd like the details on this. My office, Peter."

"Yes sir," Peter responded. He swiftly followed his superior out.

Neal kept out of the way until he could slip back into the conference room. "Guess I missed some excitement," he commented as he slipped his hands into his trouser pockets.

Chuck smiled tightly. "You could say that."

Neal laughed. "Don't worry. I've done worse things, and I'm still here."

Sarah stared hard at the conman. "Isn't that because Peter sticks up for you?"

He shrugged. "That could be part of it."

"Uh-huh."

There was a knock at the conference room door. Neal turned around to see Diana and Jones peering curiously into the room. "Anything we can help on?" Jones asked.

-x-

Jones was hunting down surveillance footage in the alley where Neal had been attacked. Diana was at the airport to see if their security tapes were still on file. Until the agents returned, there wasn't much anyone could do besides examine the alias lists yet again.

Sarah was down at the coffee machine. Neal glanced at Chuck, who was bent over a page, and then rose to his feet. He hurried out the door and down the steps, ostensibly for a cup of coffee but really because he wanted to talk to Sarah.

"So..." Neal began as he filled the mug he brought with him from the conference room with the FBI's excuse for coffee. "Chuck told me you and Bryce used to be partners."

Sarah bit the inside of her cheek. Neal _would_get that out of Chuck. Of course, she couldn't say she was surprised because she knew Chuck liked to talk about what bothering him no matter what else was happening.

"That's right, we were," she replied. Sarah had the unfortunate feeling she knew where the conversation was going. She snagged a swizzle stick to deal with the stress of the situation.

Neal quirked an eyebrow as Sarah chewed on the swizzle stick, but made no comment. "You two were close?"

Agent Walker gave the conman a sideways stare. "And if we were?" she asked as she turned towards him.

Neal took a step back and raised his hands in surrender. "I'm just curious as to why you won't talk about this guy I look like. I assume you must have been close to him if I'm getting this reaction from my innocent questions."

Sarah's stare went cold and hard. She leaned into Neal and put a finger to his chest. "First off, you don't just look like Bryce-you could be his identical twin. And second, your questions are hardly innocent. I was raised by a conman," Agent Walker informed the Neal in a hard tone. Sarah could never figure out why when anyone else besides Chuck brought up her relationship with Bryce she got so angry. Maybe it was because he wouldn't trust her when Fulcrum first got to him (causing her to think he betrayed everything she believed in), or maybe it was the way he kept trying to sabotage her relationship with Chuck-she really didn't know.

Sarah's last comment caught Neal off guard. "Your father was a conman?"

"Yes. And with my combined knowledge of running cons and being an operative, I know that even those innocent questions can eventually be used against the person answering."

Neal inched back slightly so he could get a better look at Agent Walker. "From what I know about you, Sarah, I would never use any of your personal information against you. You'd probably make my life worse than when Peter was chasing me."

The CIA agent backed away from her threatening position; a small smirk crossed her lips. "You're right—I would. But that still doesn't mean I'm going to tell you anything about my relationship with Bryce aside from the fact that it was complicated."

An understanding smile spread across Neal's face. "I'll live with that."

-x-

"Fifteen A. Fifteen A. Fifteen -"

Casey growled irately and glared at the man trotting by his side. "Advertise to the whole world, why don't you?"

At least Morgan had the courtesy of buttoning up, although he didn't appear very apologetic. "I didn't want to forget the locker number."

"Doesn't matter if you forget the locker number, does it?" Casey responded, "I've got it memorized and that's all we need."

"Right," Morgan said, before continuing, "But what happens if a sharpshooter appears from around the corner and takes you out? What then? I'd be on a solo mission and then where would we be if I forgot?"

Casey rolled his eyes again before pulling up short. "This is it," he said. And sure enough, the number emblazoned on the door above the handle read in large, stenciled letters, "15A." The Colonel took the key out of his pocket (he didn't dare entrust it to his num-nuts partner) and unlocked the door to the storage unit.

It took little effort from the Marine to push the door up, but once it was out of their way, Casey could not stop the growl that resonated from his throat. Morgan looked up at the ceiling and cursed softly to himself. Before they could get to the painting, there was a rather large gun safe to get through.

"He didn't mention the safe - did he mention the safe?" Morgan asked.

Casey was already kneeling down in front of the safe's door. He slipped his bag over his shoulder and pulled out a safe-cracking toolkit.

Morgan whistled in appreciation at the sight of the tools. When he leaned over to touch, Casey swatted his hand away. He fleetingly wished explosives wouldn't have risked harming the paintings on the other side of the door. Then, with a crack of his knuckles, he set to work.

The Colonel set the microphone up to the lock, placed the headphones over his ears, and set to spinning the tumbler. For once, Grimes understood he needed to be quiet so his partner could finish his work as quickly as possible. And in under a minute, Casey had the safe open.

Morgan whistled at the amount of paintings inside. "Wow! That's a lot of art. How much do you think this would all go for, Casey?"

"What?" the Marine replied as he hadn't been listening to his partner's babble. "It doesn't matter. We just need to find the _Zemliia_and crate it so we can get on a plane to New York City to finish this co-op mission as soon as possible."

"Spoil sport," Morgan muttered, and reached for the nearest painting. Casey held out an arm to block him. Reluctantly conceding that Casey should be the one to pull the paintings out of the safe, he stepped back again.

An uncomfortable majority of the paintings in the safe were recognizable, either due to the publicity over their theft or because of their history. Finally, near the back, Casey pulled out a small picture still held in its thick frame. The two of them stared at it momentarily before Morgan laid out the attaché case. Carefully, the two placed the painting in the case and closed it up. Casey shut the safe door to keep the rest of the paintings relatively protected until they could be appropriately recovered, and then closed and locked up the storage unit.

"Call Chuck and Sarah," the Colonel told Morgan as they walked back to the Crown Victoria. "Tell them we have the painting and we will be in the air in less than an hour."

Grimes nodded as he opened the door to the passenger side. "Any idea why Caelum wants this so badly?"

Casey shook his head. "But while we're in the air, we'll find out."

* * *

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	5. Chapter 5

**Here's youre regular update, readers! Hope you enjoy it.**

_**Disclaimer-If Winged and I own Chuck and White Collar, we probably wouldn't have to be writing fan fic :)**_

* * *

"Two more hours," Neal muttered, and paced across the room.

Peter fixed him a look. "The painting is not going to come any faster with you pacing, Neal."

Neal huffed but did, at least sit down. Chuck glanced at his watch. Sarah switched her gaze from one window to the next. And then Neal jumped up again.

"Caffrey!" Peter scolded, but Neal was digging into his pocket.

"The phone," he exclaimed, "It's vibrating." Neal glanced at the caller ID. "I don't recognize it."

Sarah leaned in the conman's direction. "Put it on speaker. Chuck-"

"Starting a trace," the nerd finished as he pulled up the FBI and CIA's tracing software on his laptop.

Neal looked to Peter, and his friend gave him an encouraging nod. He hit answer and put the call on speaker. "Yes?"

_"I want my painting,"_came a cold, hard voice.

Neal took a deep breath to collect himself. He recognized the voice, the same as belonged to his attacker from the previous evening. It was Caelum.

"I'm having trouble remembering," he said evenly. "Just which painting was it you wanted so bad? Seems I have a lot of them tucked away."

"_Don't play games with me, Caffrey,_" Caelum responded, _"You're running out of time." _

Chuck was waving his finger in a circle, signaling for Neal to keep Caelum on the phone for the trace to work. "Say I've got the painting," Neal said, "What do you want me to do with it?"

_"You're going to meet me at Central Park near the corner of 5th and 97th in three hours. If you don't show...well...you'll never see the light of day or night again,"_Caelum answered.

Neal paled, Peter stiffened in anger, Chuck glanced up in surprise, and Sarah's eyes hardened. Neal managed to find his voice. "I'll be there."

_"You better be."_

Before Neal could say anything else, the line went dead. Everyone looked at Chuck. "Did you get anything?" Peter asked.

The nerd shook his head sadly. "No. He was bouncing the signal off of a number of cell towers, but I did manage to narrow down the area from where he was making the call."

"Where?" Sarah inquired.

"He's on the west side of Manhattan-between Central Park and the Hudson River."

Peter pursed his lips. "I don't suppose anyone has an inkling of where to begin looking?"

A knock on the door caused all four people to look up. Jones stepped into the room with a page held out. "We've got the identity of the man on the security tapes," he said. "Mister Daniel Grady."

Neal turned back to the others just in time to catch the expression that flashed across Chuck's face. The way his eyelids drooped and his mouth dropped open, it almost looked as though he was having a seizure. "Chuck! Are you alright?" he asked in concern.

The others quickly looked to the CIA agent. Sarah's eyes went wide as she realized Neal had caught Chuck in a flash, but she said nothing to give away the top secret information. Not even the FBI team they were working with could be allowed to know that unless their partnership was permanent.

"What?" Chuck asked as he came out of the flash. He looked around the table, and caught Sarah's glance. He quickly tried to recover. "Oh, yeah, yeah. I'm fine, fine. Nothing wrong with me."

Neal and Peter didn't look convinced, and Jones just seemed confused. Chuck ignored their expressions. "I do know where to find Caelum now."

The conman and senior FBI agent joined Jones in looking confused. "How do you know that? We just got his real name," Peter questioned as he went into full-fledged FBI mode.

"Analyst, remember?" Chuck said, gesturing to his head, "Plus a, er, _really _good memory."

The others didn't look completely convinced, but Chuck had already turned back to the computer. "It'll be an apartment," he said, typing in a command, "Probably under construction - my guess is he likes the lax security of those types of buildings. He'll want to be close to a shopping outlet, and the building will probably be at least five stories tall. He prefers the top floors." The computer binged, and everyone crowded around to see the result.

Sarah snagged a piece of paper and scribbled down the address while Peter headed to Hughes' office to request the van to stake out the apartment Chuck found.

Neal groaned. "I really wish we didn't have to take the van. It's so boring."

Chuck gave a sideways smile to the conman. "Come on, it won't be that bad. You've got me!"

Neal laughed with Chuck as they followed Sarah and Jones out of the conference room to head down to pick up the surveillance van.

-x-

It was a tight fit with everyone in the municipal utility van. And not everybody had a seat either, so Chuck and Neal took standing spots near the back of the van.

"I never thought I'd be homesick for our own van," Agent Carmichael commented.

The FBI agents and consultant turned towards him. "Seriously?" Neal asked. "It's bigger than this?"

"Well not really," Sarah started. "The monitors are hung on the walls of the van, so there's more space. It can also be locked down remotely."

At that moment, the van swung about a corner, throwing those in the back against the left wall. "I wish we could claim a better driver as well," Chuck said wryly.

Within minutes, the van had pulled up outside the apartment. Peter immediately took charge. "Agent Walker, Diana, Jones, and I will go in to search the building. Neal, Chuck - you two stay here for surveillance."

"But -" Neal and Chuck protested together.

"Just stay in the van," Sarah ordered. And with that, the four piled out and shut the door on Chuck and Neal.

" 'Stay in the van'...I haven't gotten that phrase in a long time!" Chuck said to himself, but still loud enough for Neal to hear.

The conman was puzzled. "You were told to stay in the van before?"

Agent Carmichael shrugged. "Actually I was told to stay in the car, but yes I was told that. It was only a couple years ago when I first...joined...the CIA."

Neal frowned. "If you were trained, why would they tell you to stay in the car?"

Chuck gave an innocent smile. "Long story, but at that point I wasn't trained. I was still gangly, nerdy Chuck."

"Huh."

-x-

According to their information, Caelum would be hiding out in one of the rooms towards the back of the building on one of the top floors. As such, Peter and Sarah headed up to the fourth floor first, with Jones and Diana to keep watch at the rear.

No one was there, although this was obviously a building under construction. Clear tarps hung across the room, wooden boards were stacked in the corners, and boxes of construction tools were scattered about, making it difficult to search the whole of the floor.

"All clear!" Sarah called, and Peter echoed her from the opposite end of the room.

The fifth floor was the same layout, although construction had just finished a few days before. The rooms still smelled of fresh paint and the furniture had yet to be brought in. The room at the corner, however, housed a small cot and a bundle of sheets, as well as a locked trunk at the foot of the bed.

"He was here," Peter realized.

Sarah pursed her lips. "So where is he now?"

Peter shook his head and keyed up his ear-mic. "Jones, Diana - any movement from the rear of the building? We've got nothing up here"

_"Negative, boss,"_Diana replied.

_"All is quiet,"_Jones added.

Peter and Sarah shared a frustrated sigh. Agent Walker then walked to the trunk and knelt down in front of it. She reached into her pocket for her CIA distributed lock-pick and unlocked the mysterious trunk.

Agent Burke looked amazed. "You seriously only needed that one pick to open the lock? Neal has a whole set."

Sarah smirked. "Well Neal doesn't have the CIA giving him fun tools to work with," she retorted as she hoisted the lid open.

A bundle of clothes was the first thing Agent Walker came across. She fished them out and paused when she saw what they covered. First was a laptop, and next to it sat a Glock and a Desert Eagle.

Peter whistled when he saw the firepower. "Glad these are in the trunk and not his hand," he said.

The thought gave both of them pause. "But why would he leave these here?" Sarah asked.

"He'll have another," Peter realized. Into his mic, he said, "Neal? Are you okay down there?"

The only answer was a short burst of static.

-x-

"You know," Chuck commented as he and Neal made their way towards the apartment building. "Every time I didn't listen to Sarah and Casey when I was told to stay in the car, I ended up getting into trouble."

Neal rolled his eyes. "I thought that was before you became a trained spy."

"Granted, however—"

"Then we should be fine."

"I still have a bad feeling about this."

"Relax, Chuck. We can do this."

"Sarah's gonna kill me."

Neal rolled his eyes again and proceeded into the building lobby. A number of construction workers were walking about, and Neal started to head for the stairs. Chuck didn't like the way the workers appeared to be busy but weren't doing anything. He was about to tell Neal about his unease when they were called after.

"Hey, you two! You can't be here."

An average sized, though very muscular man was heading in their direction. From his appearance, the two hedged a guess that the guy was the foreman. "What are you doing in here?" he asked when he finally caught up to the consultant and Agent Carmichael.

"Arthur Durble of Durble Tech Incorporated," Neal said smoothly. "We came about the elevator - something about upgrading the software of the new button panels."

Although surprised by the ease at which Neal was creating his cover story, Chuck played along. He lifted the bag - which really contained a tranq gun and his laptop - and said, "We're meeting Mr. Angleside on the top floor about it."

Mr. Angleside, according to their research, was the man in charge of construction for the building. The foreman gave the two of them a once-over. "I hadn't heard that he was coming in today."

"Plans must have changed," Neal replied easily, "He called us in a hurry last night. Originally we were supposed to be coming in last week - and I tell you, he's lucky the appointment we originally had booked for today was cancelled. Now, if you'll excuse us..."

Finally, the foreman nodded and stepped back. "Good luck on that elevator," he called after them as Neal led Chuck towards the staircase, "It'll be a relief to not have to hike up the stairs every day."

Chuck let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. He waited until they were a ways up the stairs before saying, "Nice work. Not even Sarah can come up with a cover story that quickly and deliver it as calmly as you did."

The ex-con shrugged. "It comes with the job I used to do illegally and now legally for the FBI."

Agent Carmichael smirked. His eyes went wide when he heard Sarah calling him over his watch.

_"Chuck! Peter and I are back at the van, and you're not here. Where are you and Neal?"_

They paused in the stairway and glanced at each other. Neal's expression told him not to say anything. Chuck countered with one that told the consultant that if he didn't, Agent Walker would come tearing into the building, and she's probably end up shooting both of them. Neal conceded.

Agent Carmichael lifted his watch up and pressed the button to open his mic. "We're on the apartment building staircase," he answered quickly.

_"Why!"_Sarah demanded harshly.

"Truth be told, I don't know. But Neal wanted to get out of the van, and I didn't think it'd be wise to let him out of my sight," Chuck answered.

"_Get back here now. Caelum wasn't in the room, which means we have to start again to find him._"

Neal had started climbing further up the steps, and now he waited at the door to the third floor.

"We'll be right there," Chuck said.

"Eventually," Neal countered from the top step.

Chuck lowered his arm. "There's nothing to look for anymore. Let's go back, we're wasting time."

"Just one look," Neal said, and before Chuck could argue, he slipped through the door.

With a groan, Chuck dashed up the steps after Neal and hurried through the door. The room was full of construction tarps and equipment - and two men with guns trained on him.

"Oh no," Chuck said, and then a burst of pain exploded in the back of his head and that was the last thing he knew.

"That wasn't very nice, Caffrey," Caelum said as he stepped over Chuck's unconscious form. Neal whirled around to find yet another gun pointed at him. "You brought unfriendly people here to try and apprehend me. And I thought we had a good deal."

"What can I say?" Neal replied as he scrambled for a way to talk himself out of the situation. Unfortunately, his silver tongue tended to desert him when he needed it the most - when he was faced with a gun.

"You can start with where my painting is," Caelum answered as his finger tapped around the safety on his Beretta.

"It's not here," the conman said quickly.

Caelum cocked the gun and pointed it straight at Neal's head.

"Yet!" he added. "It's not here yet, but it _is _coming. The painting will be here in a few hours at most."

Caelum smiled coldly and uncocked the gun. Neal let out the breath he'd been holding.

"I guess that means you get to live for a while longer. But not here." Caelum nodded to one of his men behind Neal. A burst of pain and a sharp twist of his skull blacked him out.

* * *

**Dun, dun, dun! Well? What do you think? Please tell us!**

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**~Fierce Queen and WingedFlight**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hello readers! Winged and I thank you for your reviews-we appreciate them, and we're glad you're enjoying this story. Here's the next chapter!**

_**Disclaimer-We don't own Chuck or White Collar.**_

* * *

Sarah, Peter, Jones, and Diana stared at each other after they heard Neal hit the floor. They had heard everything through Chuck's watch - the mic must've been jammed open when he fell.

"Go - now!" Peter ordered as he threw open the back door of the van. "Everyone upstairs!"

Within seconds, the team was racing back into the building. Yet, even as they searched each floor, neither Chuck nor Neal where anywhere to be found.

It was a screech of tires down on the street that prompted Diana to race towards the window that overlooked the back alley. "That construction van!" she shouted, aiming her gun. She fired two shots in the hopes of hitting the back tires, but the van was moving too fast and was too soon out of range.

Peter wiped at his face in anxiety. "Neal's anklet," he said, "We can follow them so long as he's got his anklet on."

"And Chuck's watch," Sarah added as they raced down the stairs.

"Is there anything that watch can't do?" Jones asked as he opened the doors to their van.

Sarah and Peter worked rapidly to bring up their partners' GPS information. "It can't keep him in the car when I tell him to stay," she answered in frustration.

Both agents got the location of their partners at the same time and yelled to the driver, "Down the road!"

"And take a left!"

Soon they were off and chasing Caelum and his men. Neither Sarah nor Peter had taken the time to sit down, instead holding themselves up as they leaned anxiously over the GPS trackers. Each time the other vehicle made a move, they would call up instructions to Jones, who was driving.

And then, Sarah gave out a cry of dismay. "Chuck's watch just disappeared. Either it was a glitch or they've discovered and smashed it."

"Either way," said Peter grimly, "that means we only have Neal's tracker to follow now. _It just stopped - Left at the next intersection!_"

The van wheeled left and then screeched to a halt.

"Peter," Jones said, twisting about in his seat, "We've got a problem."

When the others moved forward to look through the windshield, it was obvious what was wrong. Neal's anklet lay on the side of the road. Of Neal and Chuck, there was nothing to be seen.

"Now what do we do?" Diana asked, still in disbelief that they'd lost both people with GPS tracking.

The ringing of the burner Caelum gave them caught their attention. Agent Burke moved to pick it up.

"Neal must've taken it out of his pocket and forgot to put it back," Jones hypothesized.

Peter shrugged and put the phone on speaker. "Yes?"

_"I assume you found my little present on the road since you have ceased pursuit. Now I will give you my terms for exchange for the con-man and the nerd," _Caelum said.

"I want proof that they're alive," Peter demanded.

_"Wish I could help you, Agent Burke, but they're both taking a nap - as you probably heard. They won't be up for a while. Now, I want the _Zemliia_ in two hours delivered to the spot I gave to Caffrey - I am sure you were listening when I told him the location. If you, Agent Burke, do not come personally with the painting, your con and nerd are both dead men."_

The line went dead before Peter could get another word in edgewise. He looked up at Agent Walker and saw a hint of annoyance in her expression when their enemy called Chuck a nerd.

"We've got to call Casey," she said after a moment's thought. "We need that painting here to bargain with."

Peter's face was tight. "If either of them get hurt -"

The two of them exchanged glances. It was immediately clear that both were thinking the same thing - if either Neal or Chuck got hurt, Caelum would live to regret it.

-x-

"One hour, twenty-six minutes, and forty-three seconds. Forty seconds. Thirty-eight."

From the other side of the plane came a menacing growl.

"One hour, twenty-six minutes, and twenty seconds."

"Grimes -"

Morgan took one look at his partner and realized that the safest course of action at this point would be to count down silently. Still, he kept his watch out to watch as the second hand ticked around the clock face.

Apparently, even this was too much for Casey. "Grimes, if you don't put your watch away -"

"What? We'll be on time?"

The Colonel glared at the small bearded man. "I'll be able to concentrate better and find what's so interesting to Caelum about this painting. Now. Why don't you get over here, and start feeling around the frame while I check out the canvas."

Morgan's mouth moved silently before he finally complied with Casey's "request". Wearing gloves and being very careful, Morgan and Casey worked diligently to find the hidden treasure Caelum wanted so badly.

They were down to an hour before the meet needed to go down, and it was ten minutes before they were going to land in New York City when Grimes squealed in triumph. Casey grunted in surprise and shot a glare in his direction, which Morgan ignored.

"One of these things isn't like the other," Morgan crowed, gesturing to a rectangular bulge along the inside of the frame.

Casey retrieved it carefully and turned it over in his hands to examine it. "Looks like a flash drive of some sort."

"Flash drive of some sort," Morgan repeated with a snort, "What you are looking at there is a Bernard 2.0. Not your ordinary flash drive, either - this thing can hold up to 64 gigabytes of data. It was one of the more advanced flash drives a few years back due to the security measures it has built in."

"One of which seems to be the placement on the inside of a picture frame," Casey added wryly.

"Well, what do we do now, Casey?" Morgan asked. "I mean, we found what Caelum is after, but we have no idea what's actually on the drive."

Casey pulled out a laptop. "Had Chuck put together a program to circumvent almost any computer security. He also added the agencies' programs to this laptop along with his own."

Grimes looked uneasy. "_Almost any_computer security?" he repeated. "What does that mean?!"

The Colonel plugged the drive into the laptop and ran the programs. "It means that unless this drive is using _Star Trek_security protocols, we're good to go, moron."

Morgan huffed and was about to reply when the computer beeped with the results on the drive.

Both agents bent over the screen. Morgan was the first to speak. "That - that's not good, is it?"

Casey's grunt was anything but positive.

-x-

Chuck was the first one to wake up. The back of his head was sore - the familiar sort of sore that came from getting hit on the back of the head. That didn't bode well, nor did the fact that when he tried to sit up, he realized that his hands were bound behind his back.

The room was dark, save for the thin amount of light that filtered under the door. He could hear the breathing of someone else in there with him. He'd just started to feel around with his feet when his leg knocked against his companion's and the breathing was disrupted by a startled gasp.

The other person shifted. "Who's there?" he asked.

"Neal?" Agent Carmichael said to the darkness.

"Chuck? Do you know where we are?"

"No idea. All I know is my head is throbbing, and my hands are literally tied."

There was a pause as Neal checked his arms. "Same here. Hang on a minute though." Neal felt around for the wall. Once he found it, he shimmied up and started feeling for the light switch.

"What are you doing?" Chuck asked as he heard Neal moving about.

"Trying to give us a bit more light," the conman answered. Finally, Neal found the switch and awkwardly flicked it on. The sudden fluorescence caused both of them to flinch hard.

Agent Carmichael squinted and began taking in his surroundings. They were in a small room filled with cleaning supplies. "This looks like some kind of janitor's closet," he commented.

"Wonderful," Neal groaned. He twisted his head around in an attempt to look at the bindings around his wrist. By shifting his arms to the side, he could just barely make out the knot in the rope. "Please tell me that along with being a master analyst, you are also a knot specialist."

Rather than answer directly, Chuck craned his neck to peer at his own wrists. He felt the familiar disorientation of the flash and, barely a moment later, was twisting his wrists in a series of movements.

"I don't think struggling against the ropes really does anything -" Neal began, only to stop when Chuck managed to slip one hand free.

"Yeah, well, depends on the knot. This one just needs the right tension," Chuck vaguely explained. When Agent Carmichael moved to rise, he stumbled and collapsed back to the floor with a moan.

"Chuck! Are you alright?" Neal asked worriedly. He shuffled towards Chuck in order to try and determine if he do anything to help.

"Yeah...I will be," the CIA agent replied as the pain lessened.

"What happened?" Neal asked.

Chuck gave him an apologetic smile. "I'm actually not authorized to say. Top secret information, but I think I can get you out of those ropes."

The conman wasn't quite happy with his response, but Neal accepted it and swiveled around so Chuck could get to the knots.

-x-

"Why is this taking so long?" Sarah groaned, straightening up from the monitor only to remember that the van was too small to pace. "If only -" She didn't finish the thought, although Peter could guess what she wanted to say. _If only Chuck were here._It was the same mantra that had been going through his own head - replacing "Chuck" with "Neal," of course.

Jones turned around from the driver's seat. "There's a black car that just parked directly behind us. The driver looks fairly menacing."

"Good," Peter said. At everyone's surprised looks, he explained, "If this is one of Caelum's men, he can lead us to Neal and Chuck."

By now, Sarah had moved to the front of the vehicle to look in the mirrors. "Well, the bad news is that those aren't Caelum's men."

"And the good news?" asked Diana.

"They're ours." Sarah immediately exited the van to meet the rest of her team. Peter, Diana, and Jones followed her out.

The driver that Jones described as menacing stepped out of his car with a scrawny bearded man. "Casey, Morgan, these are FBI Agents, Peter Burke, Diana Berrigan, and Clinton Jones," Sarah said as she introduced her team to the White Collar team. "Peter, Diana, and Jones," she said as she continued the introductions. "This is the rest of the team I work with, Colonel John Casey and Agent Morgan Grimes."

Morgan waved at the FBI agents, and Casey grunted his acknowledgment. Peter, Diana, and Jones nodded to the additions to their team.

"We found what Caelum was after," Grimes said first before the silence became uncomfortable.

"What is it?" Agent Burke asked immediately.

The Colonel handed Sarah the laptop with the drive's files copied onto it. "It's a list of people in our government who have been collaborating with Volkoff for the past twenty years."

Burke's eyes widened. "That's useful to know."

"More than useful," Sarah agreed. "Now that we know what Caelum's really after, how hard would it be to place a false flash drive on the frame?"

Morgan waved his hand in the air. "Already got one," he said proudly. He turned to Casey significantly. "I _told_you I needed to go into that store in the airport!"

The Colonel rolled his eyes. Agent Walker smiled faintly. The FBI agents wondered how the heck Morgan made it as an agent for the CIA.

"So what do we load the fake drive with?" Jones asked.

"The files were encrypted," Sarah began. "All we have to do is make new files-empty or filled with something else-and give them the same encrypted titles."

"Do you think it'll be enough to stall him so we can get Neal and Chuck to safety?" Diana inquired.

Casey smirked. "If I have it my way, he won't live long enough for us to worry about that."

Diana gave the Colonel an approving glance.

"Now all we have to do is track down where Chuck and Neal are," Morgan commented.

"I might have the answer you're looking for," said a voice that was familiar to half the people gathered.

And for the second time that day, Team Bartowski pulled their guns on the unknown person startling them.

* * *

**Who did Team B pull their guns on this time? Guess in the reviews you leave! No guarentee we'll tell you if you're right though ;)**

**Hope you enjoyed the latest installment!**

**Blessings,**

**~Fierce Queen and WingedFlight**


	7. Chapter 7

**Hey there readers! Here is the second to last chapter. Thank you to everyone who provides reviews for me and WingedFlight-we appreciate them very much.**

_**Disclaimer-We don't own White Collar or Chuck.**_

* * *

Their hands were untied but the door was still locked. "What are the chances we could find a pin somewhere in here?" Neal asked.

Chuck was standing slightly behind him, squinting a little and rubbing his forehead absently. "Hm," he said, and peered around him. "There's a lot of junk on these shelves."

Neither of them thought it was particularly likely they'd find a pin of the right size to pick the lock, but for lack of a better option, they set about searching the shelves. After a minute of silence, Chuck muttered, "It would be so much easier to shoot the lock - if we had a gun."

The consultant gave the CIA agent an uneasy glance. "Even if they hadn't searched us, I don't carry," Neal responded.

Chuck nervously laughed. "I don't really either. Tranq guns are more my style."

Neal tilted his head to the side. "Tranq guns? First I've heard of them."

A wide smile spread across Agent Carmichael's face. "They're amazing-no one gets hurt. Kind of like the stun setting on the _Star Trek_phasers. I've always had this aversion to guns mainly because I was afraid of getting hurt. Not to mention I never really had the heart to kill anyone...Well, except this one guy, and it was purely on reaction that I shot him..."

Chuck trailed off, and Neal looked at him curiously. "What drove you to kill him?" he asked cautiously.

There was a long pause, and Neal was just about to apologize for asking when Chuck said, "He was going to kill Sarah."

A longer explanation wasn't necessary. Neal nodded once, thinking of how painful it had been when he'd known Peter was in trouble and might not come out alive. In fact, Peter was probably feeling the same way about him, now.

"We'd better get out of here fast," was all Neal said.

-x-  
Mozzie's appearance was timely and untimely all at once. Three guns being pulled on him stopped the con from advancing towards the group of FBI and CIA agents.

"I should have known you'd try something like this, Suit!" Moz called to Peter. The con was thankful his wit hadn't left him. "I come to help you and you get me killed!"

Agent Walker looked to Burke. "You know him?" she asked without taking her gun off the unannounced addition.

"Yes. This is Mozzie - Neal called him earlier. He's a friend," Peter explained.

Sarah gave him the once-over before finally lowering her weapon. Mozzie straightened his glasses indignantly. Morgan followed Sarah's lead, seeing something in the other man that resonated with him.

Agent Casey was less inclined to give in. "You trust him?"

"Oddly enough, I do," Peter answered.

Casey grunted, but after a slight hesitation, he also lowered his gun. "I'm going to be keeping an eye on you. You've got an air about you I don't like," the Marine growled.

Diana added a sound of approval to Casey's threat.

Moz huffed, but turned his attention back to the group. "I assume you've recently lost track of Neal and the other CIA agent?"

"How did you know?" Jones inquired.

The Colonel narrowed his eyes at the con. "I suggest you search your van for bugs."

Peter gave Mozzie an incredulous look. "Russian Military Surplus I suppose?"

"I shall neither confirm nor deny your question, Suit," Mozzie replied.

Casey wrinkled his nose in disgust. "I knew there was the smell of commie in the air."

"I take offence to your assumption," Mozzie responded archly, "And if Neal were not in danger, I wouldn't share what prudent information I arrived with."

As much as Peter enjoyed Mozzie's company, he was running out of patience. "Spit it out, Moz," he said.

"Harlem Grammar School," Mozzie said, "There's a lot of chatter in the underground about some big shot criminal using that as his new base - along with a couple of hostages."

At the announcement, the agents erupted into a series of orders, speaking over each other until they realized that no one else could understand a word. "I'm going for Chuck," Sarah said firmly.

Peter reluctantly agreed, "Then I'd better head to the drop point."

"I'm going with Sarah. They'll both need me," Morgan said. Sarah smiled softly at Chuck's best friend for over twenty years.

Casey nodded towards Peter. "I'll go with Burke. It'll be with great pleasure to take down the traitor," he growled.

"Jones," Peter started. "Go with Agent Walker. Diana, you're with me. We'll need SWAT teams at both locations."

"How long until the drop?" Diana asked, voicing her question to no one in particular.

Jones check his watch. "It's down to about a half hour now."

Peter was already on the phone talking with Hughes about getting the SWAT teams, and Morgan looked at the jump drive in his hand.

"Anyone got a computer I can use to fill this with useless junk?"

Jones motioned to the van, and the two disappeared inside to load the decoy. Burke rejoined the group, and Moz decided to take his leave.

"And I shall be at Neal's sipping pinot noir. Bye Suits."

"Wait -" Sarah said, but the little man was already jogging down the street.

Diana leaned over to her. "It's better to let him go. Last time we took him in the van, he nearly had a heart attack."

"Besides," Peter added, "If Neal and Chuck do get away, it's best to have someone at the house if that's where they head."

-x-

Chuck and Neal were nowhere near out of their predicament. The former was sitting on the floor holding his head as it throbbed in pain, and the latter was hunched over the CIA agent wondering what the heck happened.

"Chuck! What's wrong?" Neal asked as he barely contained his panic.

Agent Carmichael took deep breaths to try and counter the pain after an accidental skill-flash on an old wooden board. "The flashes are getting worse," he admitted, forgetting he was with Neal Caffrey, who was unauthorized to know about the Intersect, rather than Sarah Walker, who knew almost everything about him.

"Flashes? What flashes?" the conman asked confused.

"Shoot," Chuck said. "That wasn't suppose to slip out."

"Well, it's out now," Neal said. "But I promise not to say a word about it to anyone."

Chuck forced a smile and attempted to stand before falling back. "Give me a minute," he said vaguely.

Neal squatted at his side in case there was anything he could do to help. "So," he said after the drawn-out silence was getting too much to bear. "Flashes?"

"Classified," Chuck ground out between gritted teeth. Then, to take his mind off the pain, he relented enough to say, "But they give me killer headaches without my watch."

Neal had no idea what Chuck was talking about - or if he was even talking about something real. For all he knew, the agent could have gotten a concussion and started hallucinating. "The light's pretty steady," he said.

"No, the flashes in here," Chuck groaned, tapping his forehead. "The information - it's glitching."

"Information in your head is glitching? That really doesn't make sense, Chuck," Neal told him honestly.

"Yeah, most people haven't been around others who have computers in their brains."

"You know that sounds really sci-fi, right?"

"Yeah, but - you know, it was Bryce who sent it to me in the first place. That's how I met Sarah."

Neal's eyebrows bunched. "You're saying that the guy I look like sent you the computer in your brain, and Sarah came to check up on you? I think they hit you a little too hard over the head, Chuck."

Carmichael gave a strained smile. "You got the first part right. Though Sarah was sent by the CIA to see if the computer was recoverable. It wasn't, enter Casey - a true Marine."

Neal decided that at this point, it would be best to simply humour Chuck until help came. "So who was your CIA partner before the computer brain?"

"Wasn't CIA," Chuck responded. "Just a regular guy, that's all. Didn't mean to get mixed up in any of this." His gaze sharpened slightly. "Wouldn't trade it for the world."

Neal chuckled. "I know exactly what you mean."

-x-

The corner of 5th and 97th, located close to Central Park, was an ideal place for a drop for multiple reasons. There was a steady flowing crowd, which meant plenty of people to see the exchange yet few to catch enough to know what was happening. Another plus of the large crowd was that it would make pursuit of the suspects much more difficult.

Nevertheless, Peter was determined that the drop would go as planned. He had agents stationed in every direction and snipers positioned in nearby buildings - just in case. He hoped it didn't have to come to that.

Peter paced as he waited for Caelum to show up, the portfolio that encased the _Zemliia_in his hand. The sudden buzz of the burner phone in his pocket slightly startled him, but the FBI agent answered it promptly.

"Hello."

_"Good to see you decided not to fool around with the lives of your consultant and the nerd," _the man over the phone said coldly.

Peter felt his temper flare, but did his best to keep his voice even. "I've got your painting. Now what?"

_"There is a bench off to your left. Sit down and place the case on the ground beside you. After a few minutes, get up and leave and don't look back...And Burke, don't try to pull anything. Or I make a call, and your men are dead."_

He hung up before Peter could say another word. Silently, he did what he was instructed to do. Knowing that everyone had just heard what was said over the phone, Peter left the portfolio at the bench.

As soon as the FBI agent was back down the street a bit, a man made his way to the bench. He strolled by and stopped curiously by the portfolio as if he never expected it to be there. After carefully inspecting it, the man turned and began walking back across the street - this time, with the portfolio in hand. The sudden screech of tires caught his attention, and a Ford F-250 Super Duty pickup truck was the last thing he saw before his breath rushed from his chest and the ground came up to meet him.

By a stroke of luck, the man managed to press a button hidden in his pocket before the driver of the pickup roughly pulled him up from the asphalt. The Colonel snapped handcuffs securely to the wrists of the traitor. Before the FBI put the criminal into an SUV, they emptied his pockets and found the button.

"What is this?" Peter demanded.

"It means your men are going to be dead."

* * *

**Sorry to those of you who thought that Mozzie was Bryce, but remember it was a voice Team Bartowski didn't recognize-they would've recognized Bryce, and the White Collar guys would've thought it was Neal. Winged and I never thought about bringing Bryce back from the dead.**

**Otherwise, please tell us what you thought!**

**Blessings upon you!**

**~Fierce Queen and WingedFlight**


	8. Chapter 8

**Here's the last chapter, everyone! We hope it at least satisfy you :)**

_**Disclaimer-We do not own either show, else we'd probably make this story an episode or two :D**_

* * *

Two shots rang out in the hall. Neal bolted to his feet, Chuck struggling upright behind him.

"Rescue team or execution party?" Neal asked nervously.

Chuck had his eyes closed tight and was breathing deep as if to numb the pain. "Step to the side, Neal."

"You aren't going to try anything with your head like that, are you?" Neal asked nervously, although he did as the agent asked.

Chuck didn't answer. Instead, he listened carefully to the noises in the hall. Someone was approaching - scratch that, several someones were approaching. He waited as the footsteps stopped outside, the handle began to turn, and the door started to open.

He opened his eyes and saw the gun in the thug's hand, and flashed. However, the flash was so bad that Chuck yelled out and doubled over. The thug took the opportunity to knock Agent Carmichael to the back of the closet. When he turned to Neal, the conman raised his arms in self-defense.

The thug looked back and forth between Chuck and Neal and raised the gun.

-x-

Agents Walker, Grimes, and Jones got the word that Neal and Chuck were going to be killed soon after they arrived at the abandoned Harlem Grammar School. Sarah didn't even wait to don a Kevlar vest; she took the safety off her Smith and Wesson and ran for the building.

"Sarah!" Jones called after her in a futile attempt to grab her attention.

Morgan was putting on the body armor as fast as he could so he could follow his best friend's girl. "You're not gonna get through to her, man. The last time someone threatened Chuck, she tore up Thailand looking for him. They didn't call her the giant blonde she-male for nothing."

Jones quickly followed Morgan's example, and the two took off after Sarah. The SWAT team barely had time to tail them before the FBI and CIA agents disappeared into the abandoned school.

-x-

Chuck blinked up through the haze of the glitching Intersect just as the thug raised his gun toward him. This was it - he didn't have the strength to stand, let alone attempt another flash. There didn't seem to be any way out of this.

And then, a shot echoed through the room.

Chuck's hands automatically rose to his chest before he realized that he was unharmed. When he glanced up again, the thug was swaying on his feet before finally crumpling to the ground.

Sarah lowered her gun and rushed into the room. "Chuck!" she exclaimed, dropping down at his side. "Are you alright?"

"I'll be fine," Chuck breathed. "Do you have my back-up governor?"

Sarah unlatched the watch from her wrist and placed it on Chuck's left arm. He instantly felt the pressure in his head dissipate. The two CIA agents enveloped each other into a hug they didn't want to end.

Chuck was the first to pull away when he remembered they were not alone. "You okay, Neal?"

The consultant looked a bit pale to the seasoned CIA agents. There were a couple reasons for that. First, it was because Neal just realized all Chuck had told him about the computer in his head was true, and second was because witnessing the thug shot and killed was very haunting for him.

But beyond being pale, the conman hid it well. "I'm good. Can we get out of here?"

Sarah and Chuck smiled, and all three rose to their feet. An unexpected click caught their attention.

"Caelum thought you would try a rescue," a second thug said.

Before the thug could do anything more, Walker executed a roundhouse kick that knocked the gun out of his hand and then sent a thrust kick to the man's solar plexus that propelled him to the ground. The thug went to get back to his feet, but Sarah brought a kick straight down to his head that knocked him out cold.

At that moment, Morgan turned the corner into the closet, decked out in full protective gear and pointing his tranq gun at all corners of the room. "You're going _down!_" he cried before realizing that the bad guys had already _gone _down.

"Oh," he said, stopping so suddenly that Jones, right on his heels, nearly walked into him. "Oh, there's a dead guy there. Not good."

"Thanks anyway, buddy," Chuck said, stepping gingerly past the body.

Neal was close behind him. "Hey," he said, "Is that one of those tranq guns you were talking about?"

-x-

Burke and the rest of the team had already returned to the White Collar division when Chuck, Neal, and their rescuers arrived. Everyone's relief was apparent - as was their exhaustion. Chuck dropped down into one of the conference room chairs and lazily spun about.

Hughes was also there, and the sound of someone clearing her throat brought the newcomer's attention to the screen. Beckman had managed to be present at the debriefing. Neal felt intimidated by the General's presence on the screen.

"Everyone is safe and sound now," Agent Walker stated for the White Collar Division leader and her CEO.

"Caelum is in custody, and the painting will be returned to the Ukrainians after the sentencing," Burke added.

Beckman and Hughes nodded. "I'm glad our two teams were able to work together to take care of this matter of national security, Agent Hughes," the General said. "Perhaps they can work more together in the future."

Hughes nodded and smirked. "I doubt that will happen, General, but I'm glad there was no problems."

Beckman gave very tiny knowing smile. "If there's anything I know about my team, it is to expect the unexpected." She turned her gaze to Team Bartowski. "I expect full reports soon after your return to Burbank."

"Yes, General," the four of them replied in unison.

"Speaking of which," Hughes said as the General signed off, "There's plenty of paperwork to be done on this end, as well." He raised his eyebrows at Peter before leaving the room.

The glum silence was interrupted by Neal, who said sarcastically, "Favourite part of the job."

"If you'd care to help?" Peter asked, turning hopefully to the other team.

Sarah stood quickly. "I... think we'd better head to the airport. We've got a lot to wrap-up on the other end."

"Unfortunately," Chuck added, although he couldn't quite hide the grin at the realization that he wouldn't have to complete paperwork for this office as well.

Neal rose and approached the others, shaking Chuck's hand with feeling. "It's been a real pleasure," he said.

"Likewise," the agent responded.

Neal couldn't resist one last try. "I don't suppose I could get one of those tranq guns?"

"Keep an eye on him," Sarah said to Agent Burke.

Peter grinned. "I could say the same to you."

Slowly, CIA team said their goodbyes, and then they were gone. Peter and Neal stood in the hall, staring wistfully at the elevator doors.

"What do you say we take a long walk down to the coffee shop to clear our heads?" Neal suggested innocently.

Peter wagged his finger. "Nuh-uh," he said, "You're not getting out of this paperwork."

END.

* * *

**Well? What did you think? Please tell us!**

**We plan on writing an epilogue but are not sure when it will actualy _get_ written because Winged and I are in college at the moment. But I promise you there is one more little bit to come! It just won't be coming by next Saturday.**

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**Blessings upon you and yours!**

**~Fierce Queen and WingedFlight**


	9. Epilogue

**So sorry, dear readers, that it took us so long to get this final chapter written. But alas! Here is the epilogue. We hope you enjoy it :)**

**Disclaimer- We do not own _Chuck _ or _White Collar_**

* * *

"This is where Neal kept the painting," Sarah said incredulously at the team walked towards unit 15A.

"The storage facility a few blocks from our apartments?" Chuck asked.

Casey grunted as he unlocked the door. "Next time you numb-nuts should listen to me."

Morgan rolled his eyes. "Yeah because you can always smell history down the—"

A deep growl resonated from the Colonel's throat, and motivated the short man to move behind his taller, Intersect best friend.

Casey opened the door and all four members of Team Bartowski wore varying expressions of disbelief as they stared at the empty unit.

"How can it be empty?" Chuck asked. "There was no way Neal could get out here and move the rest of the paintings you guys mentioned on our flight back to LA."

A small card on the floor where the gun safe full of paintings used to sit caught Casey's eye. The Colonel walked over and picked it up. It read:

_Sorry, feds, but I can't have you keeping my associate tied up in the system any longer than necessary._

"I knew I should've taken out that little commie when I had the chance," Casey growled.

"What does it say?" Sarah asked. He handed the card to her as he glared at the interior of the empty storage unit. He caught sight of a small camera by the light but said nothing to his team.

Chuck sighed. "Let's take the card back to Castle and give our report to Beckman."

"Yes!" Grimes piped up. "And then we can go home and get some real sleep because I couldn't sleep on the plane."

"Morgan, how many times do I have to tell you that don't have to root for the plane?" Chuck asked as the three of them headed for the Nerd Herder. "It's gonna stay in the air.

Casey stayed behind a moment and looked into the camera. "I'll get you one day, little commie," he said before he turned to shut the door and rejoin his team.

From the other side of the camera, Mozzie sat staring worriedly at his computer screen.


End file.
